“What?!”
“How you gonna put plants in a dark shed for three days and expect them not to wither and die?” Christopher asked.
“I’ve been checking on them, doofus,” Reece replied. “Only chance I got to buy them was three days ago. I’ve been trying to sneak stuff in this house all week without Bailey finding out! It’s really hard when she knows every square inch of this place and what’s in it! Get off my back!”
Christopher’s eyes went wide. “Whoa. Calm down.”
“I’m stressed out over here!” Reece went on.
“‘Cause you put too much pressure on yourself,” Camden explained. “You don’t have to ask the world’s most romantic proposal, Reece. “
Reece snapped his head up. “Yes, I do.”
Camden sighed. “Look, Bailey’s gonna like whatever you do. She’d like if you asked her over corn dogs at the fair. She’s chill like that.”
Christopher nodded. “She’d like if you went surfing with her and asked her.”
“Oh, a beach proposal,” Camden chimed in. “Yeah, that sounds right up her alley. You could—”
“I’m not asking her over corn dogs!” Reece cried. “I’m not asking her surfing! This is what I’m doing!” He jabbed his finger on the table to make a point. “This right here! I’m planting those goddamn flowers and stringing lights, okay? That’s what I’m doing!”
“That’s cool,” Christopher mumbled.
“I hear ya, buddy,” Camden said.
“She don’t want no corn dog anyway,” Christopher went on. “I don’t even think she likes corn dogs . . .”
“Chris, shut up,” Reece said, and hopped up from the table.
His friends, who still had half their biscuits to eat, abandoned them and followed Reece out the kitchen door. That seemed like the wise thing to do. Reece was on edge—on the very edge of the edge.
And then the work began. Reece had one last garden to plant. He and Bailey restored the others, salvaged what they could of the old pergola and built a new one, and replaced the cracked pavers in all the walkways winding about the yard. Reece even installed a small fish pond with a waterfall near the pergola, and today’s task was turning it to magic.
The men planted, mulched, raked, scrubbed, swept, and clipped all day long. Reece wanted vases of fresh flowers on the patio table and the tables under the pergola, and put Camden in charge of arranging the bouquets. They didn’t turn out quite as he’d hoped.
“What is this?” Reece asked, panicked.
“Your beautiful bouquets,” Camden replied, slipping in the last flower.
“Camden . . .” But there was no time to fix them. And Reece wasn’t sure he would have done a better job. Why didn’t he just buy bouquets? And then he reminded himself that he wanted flowers out of Bailey’s garden—their garden.
“Yoohoo! Reeces!” Soledad called over the fence. She never called him “Reece.” It was always “Reeces,” and he figured it was a subconscious decision based on the Reese’s candy commercials she heard on TV.
Reece waved his neighbor over.
“?Qué estás haciendo?” she asked, approaching the table. “?Y quién puso esto junto?” She waved her hand over the bouquets, scowling.
Reece pointed to Camden who shrugged.
“What? They look good!” he replied, offended.
Soledad shook her head emphatically and picked up the scissors. She pointed them at Camden while she went off about something. Or, at least, it sounded like she was going off. The men hadn’t a clue her exact words, but they gathered that Camden’s job was shit and that she had plans to redo the vases. She started pulling out all the flowers and re-trimming them.
“Whatever,” Camden mumbled. “I dunno how to do this shit. I work in sales.” And he trudged off to help Christopher hang twinkle lights.
“I’m proposing,” Reece told Soledad.
She smiled, not understanding.
Reece tried again, this time sinking to his knee and taking Soledad’s hand. “I’m proposing.”
Her face lit up. “Oh, Reeces! Usted y Bailey son perfectos juntos! Estoy tan feliz de que ha encontrado un buen hombre! Todos sus otros hombres no eran buenos, Reeces. No eran buenos.”
He nodded. She pulled him to his feet and grabbed his face, kissing one cheek and then the other. And then she took over—shouting commands in Spanish while she finished rearranging the vases. The men did the best they could. Soledad smacked Christopher’s hand once and popped the back of Camden’s head twice, but for the most part, they were good about understanding the gist of her orders. By five o’clock the back yard was a wonderland. The gardens teemed with summer color. Candles floated about the fish pond. Even more of them dotted the walkways and crowded the tables. Reece couldn’t wait to light them all.
“You owe us lots and lots of beer,” Camden said.
“And food, too,” Christopher chimed in. “I mean, on account of the smacking.”
Reece chuckled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know Soledad planned to come over, but I’m sure as hell glad she did.”
The men grunted.
“Food, on account of the smacking,” Christopher repeated slowly.
Reece nodded. “All right, all right.”
He thanked his friends then started in on the second phase of his preparations: cooking.
***
“You’re the best friend a girl could have,” Erica sniffed as she lay spread out on the couch, wrapped in three blankets. “I’m totally ruining your birthday.”
I handed the puzzle piece to Little Noah.
“Nonsense. I wasn’t gonna abandon you with two small kids when you’re like this,” I replied. “What do you have anyway?”
“The flu. A bad, bad flu,” Erica croaked.
“Poor thing,” I replied. “Don’t you dare get me sick.”
“I’ve been disinfecting like mad,” she said. “And I don’t think I’m contagious anymore. Isn’t it like once you start exhibiting signs you’re out of the contagious phase?”
I shrugged. “How should I know? Just don’t get me sick, or I’ll murder you.”
“Not a fan of being sick in the summertime?” Erica asked.